


The Brass Jaeger

by wisia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Noir, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Age Difference, Airships, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Drift Compatibility, Drift Side Effects, Gen, Identity Porn, M/M, Runes, Secret Identity, Sparring, Young Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7010599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty years later, Steve Rogers still find solace in the skies where the airships sail. It’s about the only thing that’s still the same aside from the kaijus and jaegers. However, he isn’t the only one to find peace in the airships. He might also just find his new co-pilot too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twenty Years

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by _A Gentleman’s Duel_ , an short animation by Blur Studio. You can find it on youtube. It just made me want to write a steampunk/pacific rim fusion. Watch it. It’s fantastic. I don’t know why I had this in my head, but I did. Anyway, this is not finished, and I don’t know when I’ll finish it. I just want to post it up though while I'm still working on the last bit of Cap-IM Reverse Big Bang.
> 
> I’ll add more tags for characters and warnings as I write later.

The line of brass copper in the sky was a familiar sight. Steve Rogers couldn’t tell how many hours he lost at Brooklyn’s port, watching each airship dock or go. The air was still thick of steam and smoke like the past, always lingering long after the ships were quieted down for the night. It made his lungs ache in a phantom way. He no longer had asthma, but his body remembered when he had been a youth on the cusp of death, burdened with every ailment it seemed. Erksine’s miracle serum changed Steve’s life forever, and even now it still worked its magic. How else could he stand here now, in an international port that dedicated itself to the Kaiju fight? Twenty some years later, cheating death with a future he didn’t know.

There was a loud blare, a noisy cacophony that interrupted his thoughts, as another ship entered the Shatterdome’s port. This one was all smooth silver grey, a steel machine that stood out in contrast to all the other copper ships. The horns blared once more, tooting hard, but there wasn’t a single lick of steam or smoke emitted from the ship. For all its sound, the ship moved as a well-oiled piece without a single fanfare of its mechanics. It was nothing like the ship that Steve once boarded, even captained. He couldn’t decide if he liked it. Too sleek and cold. A ship without a real voice. Steve had always thought a true airship should be seen and heard in the way the pipes groaned and the steam billowed its mark on the sky.

“Ah,” Natasha Romanov said, coming to his side without a peep and startling him. Her short red wavy hair bobbed as she took in the view Steve had. “I see Stark has made his entrance.”

“Stark? You mean, Howard?” Steve asked, a little excited. He craned his neck to study the airship further. Twenty years was a long time, but it wasn’t enough for everyone he knew to be gone. He saw Dum Dum and Morita the other day in fact, the two men still the same despite the aging lines on their faces.

“No. His son.” Natasha gestured to the scarlet and gold banners flying proudly on the silver ship. “He’s the only one that paints his ship with flair, the _Iron Maiden_. As if anyone could miss his entrance with that noise he calls music.”

“That’s music?”

“Some call it so.” Natasha shrugged. “But then I favor the trumpet.”

Steve couldn’t tell if she was jesting. “Trumpets? You like the sound of them?”

“I do, Captain.” Natasha smiled, an unreadable expression in her eyes. “Do you wish to meet him?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said honestly. He watched the scarlet and gold banners flitter in the air. “He’s very young, isn’t he? I didn’t expect Howard to have children…”

“He did. The boy’s seventeen. A real genius. He creates all the jaegers we use today, but he’s a child still. He has an attitude that…frustrates many. Maybe because his parents died too soon.”

“Howard’s dead?” Steve swallowed hard. He...probably should have guessed. Twenty years was still twenty years. “He seemed as if he would have lived forever.”

“The airship he was in exploded.” Natasha paused. “I’m sorry.”

“No need for that,” Steve said quietly. “We weren’t very close.”

Natasha eyed him then. “But he still means something to you. I would advise you not to get involved with this Stark though. They're all full of trouble.”

“I see.” Steve cleared his throat. “Has Fury found a co-pilot for me yet?”

“Come and see.”

Steve gave Stark’s ship one final glance as it finally finished docking. As he followed Natasha down to the Shatterdome’s main hall, the _Iron Maiden_ blared its horn once more, loud and obnoxious.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Clint Barton whistled as he dodged the incoming strike. His long purple scarf trailed behind him as he veered left and back before jabbing forward with his staff. He was good with an eye for accuracy, but he wasn’t a match. Steve disarmed the man quick, catching the end of that useless scarf with his staff. The material twined, and Clint fell to the mat with a grunt.

“Good spar,” Clint panted, but there was a wide grin on his lips. “If I lose, well, there’s no shame in losing to the wonderful Captain.”

Steve snorted, extending a hand to Clint. “Thanks for the spar. I needed it.”

He was starting to go mad, locked in his tiny cabin in the Shatterdome. Fury had no pilots for him. Every suitable candidate instantly failed. Not one even came close to the connection that Steve shared with his old partner. No one could drift with him, and Steve was indefinitely benched until then.

“Any time. If I could be yours, I would. Unfortunately Nat’s already got my heart.” Clint thumped the aforementioned part on his chest. While he wasn’t a match for Steve, he gave a good round. He was also the unexpected match of Natasha. If Steve hadn’t seen them in action, he would have never believed the two were the pilot pair of the jaeger Widow-Hawk.

“Keep talking like that, and she’ll give you away,” Steve returned. He swiped his brow with the back of his hand. He only succeeded in making it worse instead of becoming clean.

“Haha,” Clint said dryly. “She loves me more than that.”

“I’ll trade you for a copper bar, perhaps even a gear if I thought you worth it.” Natasha’s silent entry made Steve jumped. She moved too quietly for his ears. “I saw how you fell.”

She tugged Clint’s scarf. “This silly thing will get you killed.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “It’s Captain Rogers. No killing allowed. ‘Sides, my scarf is perfectly fine in the jaeger.”

“Are you certain of that?” Steve kept his face straight as Clint’s jaw dropped.

“If that’s how it is”—Clint recovered quickly, crossing his arms—“I’m going to find someone who cares.”

“Okay. Go.” Steve proffered his arm to Natasha. “Shall we? I believe you promised to show me the jaegers as I haven’t seen them since I woke.”

“Hey!” Clint shouted. “I want to go too.”

Natasha looked at Steve’s arm, all grimy and sweaty. “After you men clean up perhaps. Before Stark returns. He's out of the bay for once.”

“What do you mean before he returns?” Steve put his staff away neatly, entirely curiously. Aside from the docking of the _Iron Maiden_ , Steve had not seen the young Stark at all. To be fair, it probably did not even count as he only saw the ship and not the person from afar.

“He’s annoying,” Clint answered. “Brags a lot for a child.”

“But doesn’t he make the jaegers?” Steve asked, confused. In his day, the jaeger mechanic was a respectable profession. If not for their ingenuity the world would be awashed in kaijus and dead. Steve couldn’t have made that last fight if the Winter America wasn’t the top notch jaeger of its day. His left arm tingled as he thought of James “Bucky” Barnes, his co-pilot lost to the sea.

“Yes, but he thinks himself too good for us.” Clint waves his hand. “Too much money and too smart. It’s a shame Howard Stark isn’t alive to smack some sense into him.”

Steve didn’t say a word. He didn’t know the younger Stark to comment.

“Right. The jaegers?”

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Natasha brought them to the jaeger bays, leaving Steve with Clint as she went to handle another matter. The giant double doors creaked as the guards let them in with a single push of button. The jaegers stood tall and beautiful. Some of them were still under repair from the last kaiju attack, a category II. The Widow-Hawk gleamed in its own hanger, gauntlets heavy and imposing. Clint showed it off, full of pride.

“They shoot arrows,” he explained at the noticeable marks on the gauntlets. “Very good at piercing through skin. Not made of vibranium unfortunately. I know it’s old fashioned, but it works better than bullets. If done right, not much blood spills into the ocean.”

Steve nodded, head tilted back to take in the craftsmanship. It certainly was fine. “It’s impressive. Must take fifty men just to get it running.”

“Nah.” Clint shook his head, pointing at a jaeger on the far side. Steve couldn’t see its name, but he could see the activity. Sparks flew as a little mechanic thing fired up a torch. “Stark’s got a bunch of automans. Only things we really needs men for is the final assembly, some little sections—and oh, to inlay the runes.”

Steve stared. The automan worked fast, soon moving to the next part as another automan brought down a second beam to be weld. “We didn’t have that when I went down.”

Clint clasped his shoulder. “You ain’t seen nothing yet. Say, maybe, a couple of pounds on it?”

“Yer not fooling me. I already lost fifty to Fury.” It was definitely a fool’s bet. Steve was astonished the first time he stepped onto the Shatterdome. It was both everything familiar and unfamiliar at once. Before that, Fury had him on the _Helicarrier_ —a vessel that traversed the sky in shattering speeds that wasn’t possible twenty years before. Steve still couldn’t believe how fast things could change despite it only being two decades.

“Damnit,” Clint cursed. “Should have listened to Coulson.”

Steve smiled politely. Sir Phillip Coulson was Fury’s second hand alongside Lieutenant Maria Hill. He told Steve he watched him recover from the ice. He was probably a good man, but odd.

“Er...I know I still have yet to find a co-pilot, but are any of these jaegers mine?”

“Ah!” Clint’s eyes brightened as he hurried over to another hanger. The doors were locked, but that didn’t deter Clint at all. “Since Stark isn’t here, let’s take a look.”

“Wait.” Steve stopped him. “Won’t we get in trouble?”

He nervously looked around for other personnel, but there weren’t any.

“Psht.” Clint pressed a few buttons, and the pad beeped as the light turned green. “He won’t know we’re there.”

The doors slid open, and Steve followed Clint into the darkness. He blinked as lights suddenly came on. There, standing in the bay, was the Winter America still bearing the tarnishes from the last fight she ever fought.

“Oh,” Steve said, eyes wet. The left arm was missing, and he felt the pain of it in his own left arm where the runes had burned fire when Bucky went down. The centerpiece star was still white, still visible inside of the several gashes across the surface. “I—“

“Oh, I guess he’s not done yet.” Clint’s voice was faraway, and Steve couldn’t stop staring at his jaeger. Wires stuck out of here and there, and the helm was cracked. There were residue of sea salt and minerals in the joints…

“I have to go.”

“What?”

Steve shook his head. “I can’t—“

His left arm burned. Steve turned and ran.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

He didn’t stop until he reached the top of the Shatterdome where the night sky glowed with a hundred stars. Steve breathed in deep, taking in that smoggy air. Felt himself cough and choke before sinking to the floor, back against the wall.

“Shit,” he said to himself and wiped at his eyes. He didn’t expect seeing the Winter America to affect him that much. Hell, he wasn’t even expecting to see the original jaeger. Steve looked out, where a few airships were still docking. He took in another hasty breath, willing his heart to calm down. He shouldn’t be so worked up about this.

“Well,” a soft voice said. “I didn’t expect that.”

A white silk handkerchief floated down to Steve. He took it gratefully to clean up his face before searching for the source.

“Up here. Hi.” The source was a young man with brown hair on the roof. He had a shadow of a beard that Steve guessed he was unsuccessful in growing. His brown eyes were round, and they looked at Steve with amusement.

“Thanks,” Steve said. He held the handkerchief awkwardly, unsure what to do.

“You can keep that.” The man waved his hand dismissively.

“Thanks,” Steve said again, stupidly. He tucked it into his pocket, embarrassed. His cheeks were hot, and Steve was sure they were very red. He looked at his handkerchief companion again. “Uh, can you do that?”

“Do what?” The man propped his chin up with his hand.

“On the, uh, roof?” Steve gestured.

“Probably not,” the man admitted. “But you can see the ships better from here.”

That was a very good point. Without thinking, Steve hauled himself up to join the man. For a few minutes they watched the airships fly in silence.

“So,” the man said, out of the blue. “Do you feel better now?”

“Uh…” Steve closed his eyes and thought. The ache in his left arm was going away. It felt dull compared to the sharpness from earlier. His heart was a different story. “A little.”

“Watching the sky tends to help.” The man sighed wistfully. “If I could fly on my own, I would.”

“You can fly a ship one day,” Steve offered.

“It’s not the same. I want to fly and be closer to the sky. I want to feel the air on my face under my own power.”

“Maybe you can one day.” Steve looked at the _Iron Maiden._ It still stood out among all the copper. “Things change fast, before you know it. I didn’t expect twenty years to go by this quick.”

The man laughed. “You’re not that old, are you?”

Steve smiled. “Depends how you count it, but I’m definitely older than you.”

“Age isn’t everything.”

“Experience does. What’s your name?”

The man looked at him, eyebrow raised. “You don’t know me?”

“Should I?”

“No.” The man shook his head quickly. “You’ll know me soon enough. I’m Tony.”

“Pleasured to meet you. Steve Rogers.” He shook Tony’s hand, noting the calluses and scars nicked on the fingers. “You work?”

“Yes,” Tony replied. “Kind of have to.”

Oh, Steve thought. He used to be that once his own mum was gone. Working whatever jobs he could alongside Bucky just to survive. “You’re on your own?”

“Well, I’m not liked by anyone, really.” Tony shrugged. “I get by though. But what’s a fella like you doing here, crying your pretty eyes out?”

Steve flushed, the red returning to his cheeks. “I was—I was shocked by something.”

“Bad memories.” Tony nodded his head sagely, as if he understood it. He pointed at the sky, picking out a few constellations. “Skies the best remedy.”

An airship blew its horn in the distance.

“You’re an expert on it?”

“Genius,” Tony grinned, tapping his temple.

Steve snorted. “Of course. Shouldn’t you get some sleep?”

“And miss talking to the infamous Captain Rogers?”

“Uh…”

“Oh, come on,” Tony scoffed. “As if anyone doesn’t know who you are. I’m just surprised I haven’t seen you yet in the jaeger bays.”

“I…I just came from.”

Tony stared at him. “And?”

“It…,” Steve sighed. “It wasn’t good. I saw the—my own jaeger. It unsettled me more than I thought. I didn’t think they would give me her again.”

Tony’s reaction was unexpected. His face twisted. “Who the hell let you see your own jaeger? That wasn’t—she’s not your jaeger!”

“She isn’t?”

“Only an idiot would give you back your jaeger,” Tony snapped. “Do you know—the runes on it are still active! And I’ve read the reports. You still have them lines on your arm. It was never going to have worked with your old jaeger.”

“I—“ Steve blinked.

“Honest to god, I’m going to slay whoever took you there. That hanger was locked for a reason.” Tony scrambled to his feet. He was ready to raise hell.

“Whoa—whoa.” Steve hurried to catch him before he could trip off the roof. “It’s fine. No harm done.”

“You were crying,” Tony said flatly. “I was wondering what made Captain Rogers so upset.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“No, you’re not. I swear—“

“I’m fine,” Steve said loudly. “Thank you.”

“Uh…”

Tony’s eyes were wide as they looked up at Steve. His mouth was parted slightly, and Steve’s eyes couldn’t help but note those chapped lips. Without realizing it, Steve was very close to Tony. His hands were tight on Tony’s arm, keeping the younger man in place.

“Sorry.” Steve blushed for the third time that evening as he let Tony go. “I’m…you don’t need to do anything for me.”

“I want to.”

“How about you just sit with me?”

Tony hesitated. Steve sat down, legs crossed.

“Fine.”


	2. Drift Compatiblity

The medical bays were large, taking up nearly the entire West Tower. The topmost floors were left for air reconnaissance and the ferrying of patients to and from the West Tower in dire situations. Here, Steve entered with a grimace to his lips. It wasn’t his favorite place to be, not after he spent several months locked within their walls recovering from his stint in the ice. After several hours of airship watching, Tony insisted that he go to medical. Steve looked at the doors with apprehension, having delayed coming until the morning. He didn’t fancy being poked once more so soon. Then, the doors opened before Steve could knock by a man with wiry spectacles in a lab coat.

“Ah,” the man said, pushing a hand through his wayward curls. He was a little disheveled. “You must be Captain Rogers.”

“Uh…yes.” Steve shook his hand firmly as the man smiled, beckoning him in.

“I’m Dr. Bruce Banner. Tony told me to expect you.”

Steve frowned. “I just spoke to him yesterday.”

Banner laughed. “News travel fast around here, but Tony saw me last night if that helps. He was adamant that I look you over. I’m honestly not that kind of doctor if I may say, but here you are.”

“Unfortunately,” Steve agreed. “You know Tony very well?”

“We exchange discourse on occasion. Our fields are different, but we know enough of the other to converse. Take a seat here, please.”

Banner pointed to a chair, and Steve sat down, uneasy. He shouldn’t have let Tony badgered him into coming. Banner’s office was far from the standard doctor’s kit. It looked more like a laboratory with metal implements strewed about the counter. Across from Steve stood a line of different sized glass jars all containing different kaiju organs, such as an eye or heart. He felt sick looking at them.

“You—you’re not a doctor, you say?” Steve asked, remembering what Banner just said. Banner settled in front of him with a tray of test tubes and a syringe.

“Not a medical doctor. I’m a kaiju specialist.” Banner looked over his tray, double checking the items. “Trust me, I am quite qualified. I’ve studied the effects of applied runes to the human body for years before this position. I have, shall we say, a marked interest in the creatures, and the Shatterdome provides that.”

“I see.” Steve swallowed hard and eyed the needle warily. There was something about Banner that was undecidedly strange for all his meek demeanor, in those eyes. However, Tony trusted the doctor and swore that Banner was the absolute best. To be fair, Steve only met Tony but he could hardly refuse. Something about the kid’s expression affected Steve. He couldn’t resist such round innocent eyes.

“I’m also one of the few people who studied Erksine’s miracle serum,” Bruce added, reassuringly. “I’m going to take a sample of blood.”

“Of course.” Steve rolled up his sleeves, resolutely not looking at Banner.

“How did you feel yesterday after seeing your jaeger?”

“Nervous. Anxious.” Steve felt the prick of needle and forced himself to stay calm.

“No nausea or vomiting?” Banner questioned as he finished.

“No.”

“Hm,” Banner hummed. “Let me know if you do experience that. Does your arm still hurt?”

“No,” Steve lied. It didn’t hurt, but he still felt a twinge run down it on occasion.

“Good. Seeing as you are well I don’t think there is anything else I can do for you except to run the tests. Perhaps, it would have been different if I’d seen you right after the exposure.” Banner gestured to the door with a free hand as his other hand took the tray away. “You are free to leave, Captain. I’ll have the results in a few days.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Steve stood up, bewildered by the encounter. He was still confused as he entered the canteen and retrieved a tray of food. A mechanical gizmo deposited his utensils, and it was an experience lacking in warmth. He thanked the serving automan though it could not speak.

Natasha waved him over, the dark ribbons in her hair flying. She was neatly attired in a corset that accentuated her bosom and form fitting pants. Steve was grateful he had a companion to buffer against all the other eyes in the hall. He couldn’t shake the fame he had acquired during his “death”.

“Good morning, Miss Natasha.” Steve carefully set down his tray to avoid spilling the contents. If there was anything about living in the future, it wasn’t the food.

“Captain,” Natasha acknowledged. She sipped her tea. “How did it go yesterday?”

“Badly,” Steve said, poking at his eggs. He didn’t suppose any automan or machine could make them less rubbery. Powdered eggs were still here to stay. “Clint showed me my jaeger, the one I went down with. I didn’t expect it to affect me.”

Natasha shot a glance to Steve’s left arm. She knew of the runes burned there permanently. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yes, actually. I met a fellow who more or less convinced me to see Dr. Banner. He’s a little strange, but Tony seems to like him I suppose.”

“Tony?” Natasha asked, a little surprise.

“No. The doctor.” Steve shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“Ah, Dr. Banner. He’s a good man. A little mad with the kaijus, of course. Has a temper as well.”

“Does he?” Banner didn’t seem to exude any such presence.

Natasha gestured to her own arm. “He gave me a scar when I brought him in. If it wasn’t for Tony, he might have left.”

Steve could see that. Tony seemed to need looking after. The boy fell asleep as they watched the airships. There were tired lines in that sleeping face that shouldn’t be.

“I didn’t know we still recruited that young.” Steve twirled his fork. “Tony seems way too young to be here.”

“He isn’t,” Natasha said automatically. At Steve’s stare, she rolled her eyes. “He is young, but we need his talent. He was doomed from the start to be here. He could have never escaped the jaegers, not with his affinity for runes and his parentage.”

Steve tilted his head. “Is he a mechanic? I didn’t ask.”

This time, Natasha stared at him. “You really don’t know who he is?”

“Am I supposed to? He seemed to suggest that yesterday too.”

“Well—“

There was a commotion as Clint stomped in, a sour mood on his face. He grunted a greeting and dropped down in the seat opposite of Natasha.

“Fuck him! That bastard revoked my access!”

“Who?” Steve put down his roll. He had never seen the man so upset.

“Stark,” Clint growled and crossed his arms. “Said I was poking into places that I shouldn’t be. I can’t go to the jaeger bays without being escorted and only during a certain time. He even squared off my jaeger, putting his damn runes around that I cannot past without getting shocked. I’m going to crawl into the vents one of these days and leave him a surprise in the workshop.”

“Is that really necessary?” Steve asked, disapprovingly. Because Stark was a child from what he knew, and no child should be subjected to a grown man’s fury. “He probably has a reason for keeping you out.”

“Yes.”

Natasha had no sympathy for Clint. “What did you expect? You went and showed Steve his old jaeger.”

“I did. And what was wrong with that?” Clint huffed. He jabbed a finger at Steve. “It’s only right that he sees it. His own damn jaeger.”

“You forgot about the runes,” Natasha admonished. “I know personally that Stark hadn’t got around to deactivating them yet.”

Clint paled. “He didn’t? But he was so excited to get his hands on it.”

“He didn’t,” Natasha confirmed. “Fury’s been keeping him busy. Pepper Potts as well.”

“Ah, damn.” Clint rubbed a hand over his face. “Now, I owe the brat an apology—are you well, Steve?”

“I saw Dr. Banner.”

“Good, good. I’m sorry. That was—I should have checked first.” Clint sighed.

“I was excited too,” Steve added. “It’s not your fault.”

“As long as it didn’t harm your brain.” Natasha bit into her toast. “We don’t need you chasing the rabbit.”

The runes made it possible for two pilots to connect through a neural net, also known as drifting. If it wasn’t for that, no jaeger could last or work. The machines could not be operated with one sole pilot.

“If we find one,” Steve sighed. There still wasn’t a co-pilot for him, and the closest was Natasha, who could be matched with nearly anyone apparently.

“You will,” Clint assured him. “I was hopeless before I found Natasha.”

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

“Airship gazing again, Captain? One would think you’re obsessed.” Tony grinned up at him. He was dressed in a fine suit, shiny brass goggles on his head, instead of the usual oil stained overalls. He held a hand up.

“You too,” Steve replied, taking that hand and hauling Tony up to the roof. “You’re dressed fancy today.”

“Had a meeting,” Tony dismissed. “And you’re wrong. I’m not ship gazing today. I was looking for you.”

Tony nearly slipped off, and Steve steadied him.

“Excited, aren’t you?”

“Made a breakthrough early this morning too.” Tony poked Steve in the chest. “And Bruce cleared you. No residue at all. You won’t suffer the rune sickness though he thinks that might have to do with the serum.”

Steve blinked. “Rune sickness?”

“It’s what happens in your special case.” Tony plopped down, tugging his silk cravat loose. The action exposed the hollow in that throat, and for all the finery there was Tony looked like the young man he was for once. “I’m not certain about your arm, but the runes on the Winter America I can render inert.”

“That is more than enough, but I don’t know if I want to see it.” The memories still burned, and his left arm again tingled at even the thought.

“It’ll be there when you want it.” Tony cracked his neck.

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence before Steve gathered up the courage to ask, “are you a mechanic?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Was it not obvious?”

“I didn't want to presume.”

“Well, presume away. You won’t be the first.” Tony’s smile turned a little brittle. “I am the best there is on the team. You won’t find any jaegers here without even an input from me.”

That sounded a little arrogant. “Even better than Stark?”

Tony laughed, amused. “Captain, I promise that the jaeger we build for you will be the best. Fury will spare no expense in outfitting one for you, and I intend to take advantage of that.”

“I believe you.” Steve didn’t doubt it, not with that eagerness in Tony’s eyes. “The only thing is that I may not pilot at all. There is no match for me.”

Tony scoffed. “Match? You don’t need a match to pilot one of the jaegers.”

“It takes two to pilot otherwise it’s stressful.” When Bucky fell, Steve struggled to keep his head together to strike the Red Skull. He barely managed before succumbing to the waters and the murky blue blood, toxin in his mouth and skin.

“I don’t believe in matches.” Tony fixed his gaze on the horizon. “It’s not a miracle as everyone thinks it is. Sure, there is some component—maybe genetic or the way our souls resonate, but that’s all there is. You’ll find the strongest pilot pairs in those who have known each other for a long time or who understands each other well.”

“Then, how do you explains someone like Natasha who pairs with anyone?”

“She’s the devil.” Tony smirked. “She understands most everyone. Why wouldn’t she pair well with anyone, even you, Captain? If it wasn’t for Barton, I wager she would have been your partner.”

“I don’t know about that.” Steve had seen the fluidity of the two on the mat, in their actions and regard for each other on and off the field.

Tony shook his head and stood up. “You should believe it. Perhaps, I’m bitter though. As many jaegers I have built, I have not once piloted it with another aside from Jarvis.”

“See,” Steve pointed out. “Even you pilot it with someone. It has always been two.”

“Jarvis—he isn’t human. He’s an artificial construct. Do you know, I don’t even know how to spar?”

Steve’s eyes widened. “But how can you?”

“I know my jaegers in and out, even if I may never know the neural net.” Tony tapped his temple. “It’s the price of brilliance. I’ll see you, Cap.”

That sounded inexplicably sad to Steve. The amazement he shared with Bucky in the neural net was one of his best memories. Being able to drift, to work the machine with another person that intimately, was beauty. And to think that Tony never had that opportunity…

“Wait! Tony,” Steve called out to him.

Tony stopped to look at him, confused. “What is it?”

“Let me teach you. To spar.”

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

“I hate you. I really do.” Tony looked up at Steve balefully. Steve had pinned him to the mat with his thighs, staff at Tony’s jugular.

“How else do you expect to improve?”

“I don’t need to improve.” Tony shoved Steve away. Sweat rolled down his temple, and he looked heated in his tightly buttoned up shirt. The vest and jacket he wore was discarded at the side, but—

“You should remove that shirt as well. You’ll suffer heatstroke.”

Tony hunched in on himself, hand pressed to his chest. “I’m fine.”

“Your face is red, and you will at the very least end up dehydrated.” Steve passed a flask of water to him. Tony drank in long gulps, draining it within minutes. He refused to take off his shirt, and Steve didn’t understand why. Even when he had been skinny and tiny, Steve didn’t hesitate to rid himself of layers he didn’t need.

“Forgive me, if I don’t look the perfect specimen as you are.”

Steve had stripped to his waist, and he colored at the mention. “It’s—it’s the serum.”

“Of course,” Tony snorted.

“And your form is atrocious. You have the basics, but you could stand to do better.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Tony plopped himself flat on the mat.

“I’m serious. I can spar with you every day until you have it down.”

“Steve,” Tony said wearily. “I have no time for that.”

“Stark isn’t that much of a driver that he wouldn’t give you some time for yourself. You can spare a few hours with me instead of being in the jaeger bays.”

Tony stared at him, incredulous. “Steve—“

A bell sounded, echoing in the Kwoon Combat Room.

“Shit,” Tony swore, scrambling to his feet. “Another one? I didn’t think—I have to go.”

Steve followed him. “Where to?”

“I need to get to the control room,” Tony explained, not slowing down one bit in his step. “There’s only two, maybe three, jaegers available. Something must have happened. Foster’s prediction is not for another three days. I thought I’ll have more time.”

Steve frowned. “That isn’t good.”

“I know. I can get a third one running, but only after the first two are deployed.” Tony ran both hands through his hair, agitated. “We’ll still need more time. It’ll take at least forty minutes.”

“You’ll do fine, Tony. I’m sure Stark is working on it as well,” Steve tried to reassure him.

Tony barked out a short laugh. “He is, but you can’t do anything with time. I don’t know how long two jaegers can hold against the kaiju. Damnit.”

He stopped abruptly and turned around.

“Tony?”

“I’m going down to the jaeger bay. Tell Fury to find someone to man the control room. I can’t do it. We need that third one. I feel it in my bones.”

Steve looked at him and nodded sharply. “Stay safe.”

Tony hurried off with barely a wave.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Fury stood by the window of the Central Tower. He had a scope in hand, and even Steve could see how the sea churned and rolled with great waves.

“Sir!” Steve saluted as Fury put the scope away.

“Rogers, what are you doing here?”

“Tony said he can’t be here. He said he has two jaegers, and he’s aiming for a third.”

“He’ll need to deploy the first two.”

“He said that, sir. At least forty minutes.”

Fury shook his head. “It’s not going to be enough. I know my pilots, and they can’t buy that much time without their lives in danger. They’ll lose it.”

He looked out the window once more, lone eye studying the waters. Steve’s eyes followed. Then, he turned on his heel, idea in his head.

“I can buy us some time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I need an airship.”


End file.
